Lost Song
by DeathTheRabbit
Summary: Mayotta Uta is more comfortable around the dead than he is the living, but soon enough, he'll have to learn what it really means to be alive, and that perhaps things are not as black and white as he once thought.


Chapter One

Wars were fact of life in the shinobi world, and unavoidable no matter how hard one tried to avert them. They were bloody and tore apart entire countries, often affecting civilians more than the shinobi that fought the wars.

Mayotta Uta knew this better than anyone else.

He had seen the worst of the war, his entire village torn asunder in a battle that had been fought to claim the village as a refuge point for advancing shinobi forces. After the battle had ended, the village had been left in shambles and rendered absolutely useless for either side in the long run.

It had been enough for Uta to want a change, although at the time he had been too young to change anything.

Even now, Uta could not do anything to stop the raging war that had struck the shinobi world again. He could not even comprehend what had started it. What point was there in fighting? Why choose violence and death over kindness and understanding? These were questions that he could not answer.

Uta let out a soft sigh as his lips brushed against a white flute for the third time that day. He blew into the mouthpiece, a light note ringing out across the desolate battlefield riddled with the bodies of slain shinobi.

He began to play a slow, melancholy melody, his fingertips glowing with faintly blue chakra. All around him, small blue flames burst into existence among the bodies that lay strewn about the abandoned battlefield, burning them up and leaving nothing but the metal of their village headbands behind.

It was Uta's duty now, passed onto him by his late mentor, to soothe the spirits of the dead and purify places where great tragedy had taken place.

Never intermingling with the living, it was no surprise that Uta had become more comfortable around the dead instead of the living. It was preferable, he thought, to keep company with the dead instead of the living because the dead could not harm him.

Uta was content with the way his life was going, but fate had a funny way of throwing one into new situations without warning, and he was soon going to discover that he could not keep company with just the dead for much longer.

* * *

"...so what you're saying is...you want us to go after a ghost?!" Naruto seemed horrified at the thought, but it did not look as if the Yondaime were playing a prank on his only son and his teammates.

"I doubt it's an actual ghost...but it is showing up around deserted battlefields, and it would be best to find out whether or not it's a threat to the village and why it only appears in specific places." Minato let out a sigh. "If possible, please bring back this 'ghost' for questioning, but only use force if absolutely necessary."

Each of the three members of the team and their leader gave a nod and took the scroll with the details of their mission and left to begin packing.

* * *

A wet, bloody cough escaped from Uta's lips the moment he replaced his flute within his silvery white kimono. He wiped the blood from his lips and heaved a heavy sigh.

There was one more place he could manage to reach before the sun set to play his flute, but already his weak body was failing him again. This was not an unusual occurrence, but Uta found it incredibly frustrating every time that it happened.

Uta had always been sickly, even before the destruction of his village. Sometimes it was manageable, and sometimes it was crippling. For the moment, it was manageable, but if he wasn't careful, he would end up collapsed in the middle of nowhere until the worst symptoms subsided.

He knew it would be better if he left his last destination for another day, but he did not want to if he could get there before dark. If he got it done tonight, then he would have more time to rest before moving on to the next country until the fighting got bad here again.

Making up his mind, Uta began on his way to his next destination. It would be better to leave this area more quickly anyway to avoid being seen by someone.

It took only a few hours to reach the next place, where a battle had broken out, and Uta's heart sank in his chest. He was used to being around the dead, more so than the living, but it always broke his heart to see the bodies of those barely old enough to qualify as shinobi.

Uta took a moment to rest before removing his flute from the inside of his kimono. He put it to his lips and began to play the same melody he always played.

Blue flames burst into existence again, growing as they devoured the bodies of the dead. Once again, they left nothing but ash and the metal pieces from their headbands in their wake, dying out as soon as their task was complete.

Once all the flames had disappeared, Uta changed the tune, playing something lighter than his earlier melody. He closed his eye, fingers dancing along the flute delicately.

The melody went on for several minutes, growing strained only on the last few notes despite the way Uta's hands shook with the effort of continuing to play when his body wanted nothing more than to just give out on him right there and then.

Uta lowered his flute slowly, biting his lip as he tucked it away again. He had already done too much today and he could feel his strength failing, but he could not afford to stay somewhere so open.

Somewhere in the trees behind him, a branch cracked, the noise echoing through the empty battlefield like wolves howling in the dead of night.

Uta spun around, stiffening. He looked around nervously and backed away, realizing that he was no longer alone here. He could not discern where the noise was coming from, or how many people were watching him, but he knew that he needed to get out of here before they dared approach him.

He crouched down, hiding his hands from view, and made several quick hand seals, relief floating over him momentarily when a thick mist surrounded him. It wouldn't distract them for long, but Uta hoped that it would be enough for him to escape.

It was vital that Uta was not caught by anyone. He could not afford to let anyone get ahold of his flute or himself. He did not have an apprentice yet, so he could not pass on his duties to them if he were caught or killed.

Uta sprinted off in the direction opposite of where the noise had come from, trying to keep himself from coughing and revealing his position to his pursuers.

He was not a shinobi, so while his speed was an advantage, he had no idea how to flee in silence. It wouldn't be hard to track him by his footsteps, but he hoped the mist would be enough of a distraction to give him a chance to escape before his health completely failed him.

It was not enough of an escape and whoever was pursuing him was either a talented shinobi or someone used to travelling in the impenetrable mist that was a frequent occurrence in Kiri.

There was a tug at his sleeve, and Uta was momentarily dragged back by whoever had caught ahold of him. He lost his balance and crashed to the ground, a bloody cough escaping his lips.

Blood stained his long, silvery white hair, which hung down in front of his face like a curtain. It dripped from his lips onto the sleeve of his white kimono.

Uta forced himself to his feet, slipping a small blade from his sleeve. He slashed through the sleeve his pursuer had managed to grab and jerked his arm away. He spun around and sprinted away again, not even pausing when his pursuer called out to him.

"Stop! We're not here to hurt you!" It was a man's voice, but Uta did bother to listen to what he had to say.

It was too late anyway, because Uta had just slipped into the safety of the trees just ahead. He didn't stop running until his vision began to blur with exhaustion and dizziness.

Uta leaned against a tree, gasping to try and catch his breath. The metallic taste of blood was strong in his mouth, and he could not help but wonder if he would be able to keep going even after resting for a moment.

Either way, he needed to change. It would be rather noticeable if anyone saw him with a sleeve missing.

With slow, deliberate movements, Uta slowly undid his kimono, dropping the obi and outer robe on the ground after removing his flute.

Beneath it, instead of the usual undergarments, he wore a set of civilian clothing. It was easier to do things like this. That way, if he got into situations like his current one, he could quickly ditch whatever he was wearing in favor of something that would stand out less.

Uta cut a thin strip from the kimono and tied his long hair up with it, leaving the right side covered as it always was. It still stood out quite a bit, being white as snow and all, but it was better now.

He quickly strapped his flute to his belt, making sure it was secure before sprinting off again.

Already, his body was failing him again, and it was becoming harder to keep running. His heart beat faster and faster, its rhythm stuttering and uneven. The fear combined with his sudden jolt of activity was almost too much for his heart to take.

Wheezing coughs escaped Uta's lips, and his pace slowed as he nearly crashed into a tree. His steps were unsteady and he kept tripping over his own feet. It was too much. Too much for his heart and the rest of his body to handle.

Uta crashed to the ground and did not get up. He laid there trying to calm his racing heart and ignored the way his vision faded in and out. Blood splattered across his arm as he tried to stifle the sound of his coughs.

It was so hard to breathe, but Uta forced himself to his knees slowly. He grabbed onto the tree closest to him and used what little strength he had to drag himself to his feet.

Behind him, the sound of howling dogs and many footsteps approached at a terrifying pace, and Uta could not help but shiver at the sound.

They had dogs? There would be no way for Uta to escape when he was coughing up so much blood. The dogs would be able to track him anywhere he went and he was not fast enough to outrun them.

Uta realized that he had no choice. If he was going to be caught either way, he would much prefer to go down fighting, rather than being chased so far and to the point that he could do nothing to even defend himself.

He could not let anyone find out how he did what he did, so he removed the flute from his belt, hands glowing blue with chakra, and transformed it into the shape of an ordinary book. The transformation would last so long as he had access to his chakra.

Quickly, he tucked the book into his shirt, and retrieved the blade he had used to cut his sleeve earlier. It wasn't much, but it would be enough for him to defend himself for a bit.

Uta spun around and faced his pursuers, heart nearly leaping out of his chest when several dogs of various breeds and sizes leapt out at him. He dipped below them, spinning out of reach in an uncoordinated fashion.

He sprinted off again, smacking right into one of his pursuers in his haste. Another bloody cough escaped his lips, speckling a pink haired girl's face with blood.

"Ah...wait, stop!" The girl spoke quickly, grabbing onto his wrist with a bone-crushing grip. "We're not here to hurt you!"

A yelp escaped Uta's throat, and he slashed out with the blade towards the girl's face. "Then stop...chasing me!" He was finding it difficult to speak between his coughing and the way his heart kept stuttering.

A sharp pain jolted through his chest, and Uta dropped to the ground, unable to remain standing. He had done too much and his heart was failing him now. He couldn't breathe and he certainly couldn't escape any longer.

His breaths came in sharp, panicked rasps as he struggled to keep breathing. Eye shutting, he couldn't do more than listen as others surrounded him.

"Sakura-chan! You killed him!" Whoever was speaking now was loud and obnoxious against Uta's ears, and he slowly moved his hands up to cover them. It would easier for him to recover if there wasn't someone screaming so loudly.

"He's not dead, Naruto-kun." The pink haired girl snapped, gently rolling Uta over onto his back. "But he is sick. Kakashi-sensei, I think it would be dangerous to move him too far right now."

There was a brief silence, as this 'Kakashi' seemed to survey the area. "We'll make camp here, then." He said finally.

Uta didn't hear much more after that. It was all too much for him to take. With each rasping breath, everything seemed more and more distant until he finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * *

yeah idk what this is or if i'll continue it but enjoy ig


End file.
